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Bait (Snowfall)
Bait Part four, Mission Two, of Snowfall. I’m not dead. Funny, ''I think. ''But last night I was shot in the head. Wow. Talking to myself isn’t getting me anywhere. Not that I need ''to be anywhere. I wake up to birds singing, the light on the security camera flashing, and sunlight streaming through the windows onto the carpet. It’s like last night never happened. ''Turn around and look up, ''a voice giggles in my ear. ''Okay weird little voice, whatever you say. ''I roll onto my stomach and look at the headboard. Sure enough, a bullet is lodged into the elaborately carved wood. Wonder how much a replacement’s going to cost. I look left. I look right. Sparkles and Amy are still asleep, unfazed by what happened last night. So what’s the harm in waking them up? “I’m a pretty dolphin!” I roar at the top of my lungs. As if on cue, Sparkles jumps up, (in contrast to Amy who just rolled off onto the floor,) her cream fur dishevelled and her bright blue eyes wild. “I didn’t eat the last cookie!” she shrieks. She awkwardly grins at me. “Hey, Snowpaw, how did you sleep?” I shrug. “I almost got shot in the head and our hotel room was entered by possibly the same cat who’s stalking me.” “Oh. Oh dear.” Sparkles’ eyes slide to the bullet lodged in the headboard above me and snatches up her phone from the bedside table. “I’m calling FROST and they’re going to have to replace that bed.” Amy staggers to her paws. “Now I have to have my fur restyled ''again,” she wails as she licks the kinks in her fur. “Dark alleyways, city streets, being in a plane for eight hours. At least the tips don’t have to be re-dyed,” she mutters. She pads into the bathroom and locks the door. “Don’t forget we’re going to the beach today!” she calls. “Comprendo,” replies Sparkles with a perfect Spanish accent. She puts the phone down. “FROST has been notified.” “What are you, Siri?” I snort as I groom myself. “So how much money are we taking today?” “As much as Amy can fit inside her satchel. I’m not sure we need much.” Sparkles heads to the mini kettle on one of the cabinets in the room. “Herbal tea, Snowpaw?” “No thanks. Got any lemonade?” “I’m sure we can order room service,” she purrs. After dialling the number, she says, “One lemonade, room 301. Thanks!” After a few minutes Amy comes out of the bathroom, clean and tidy. The room service cat arrives carrying a tray with a single glass of lemonade on top. “Twenty dollars,” he meows, holding out a paw. Sparkles turns around, scanning the room for the pull-along suitcase. “Wha…?” she breathes. “Where is it?” She panics, diving under tables. “Maybe that cat took it,” I suggest. “The one from last night.” “Yes!” Sparkles exclaims wildly. She shakes me by the shoulders. “Did you see anything?” I step backwards. “I blacked out when the bullet was fired. I didn’t see anything.” Sparkles swore. “Take your lemonade and shove it up your hindquarters,” she spits and slams the door. My jaw drops open. “Sparkles, that wasn’t very nice.” “We have bigger problems.” Her tone is suddenly serious, the I’m-not-taking-any-dung-from-anyone tone. “Amy, call FROST and tell them what happened. Snowpaw, go downstairs and check us out of this hotel. Take Amy’s satchel with you. It has her credit card.” “But what about the poem?” Amy asks. “Take that too,” she orders. “But there’s a new one!” she protests. Sparkles’ eyes widen and she rushes over to the mahogany table. I follow her, craning my neck. “Maybe this is where the thief has gone,” she yowls brightly. Amy walks away to call FROST and Sparkles and I read the poem. I put a bomb inside of you, To make this game more fun, Sparkles, Amy, and little Snowpaw, The game has now begun, I have gone north to the land of dreams, To the world of the sun-drown place, Detonation’s at 12, and you are bait, Time’s running out, so quicken your pace! “How long do we have until midday?” I fret. “And where is the world of the sun-drown place?” “We have an hour,” chirps Amy. “And I think you mean SeaWorld, in Orlando.” I gasp in delight. “How do we get there?” “By going North, obviously,” Amy snorts. “But we can always take a limo.” “We don’t have any money,” Sparkles points out. Amy rolls her eyes. “I know. So we’re going to have to hijack one.” “But that’s… But we can’t just…” “But that’s what spies do.” “Out of the way!” screams Amy as she slams herself into the twoleg in the driver’s seat of a decent-looking limo. We drag him outside, despite his spitting fit. Sparkles slams the door. “I’ll drive,” she decides. “Snowpaw, work the pedals and Amy, find SeaWorld on the built-in Navigation. Then get your tails strapped in, it’s gonna be a bumpy ride.” >:3 I feel giddy as I remember the mental car chase with Stevie a few months back. Hurtling along the streets at the speed of light, the sirens blaring behind us… To see my friends from Littlerock School and a load of kids dead. “So do I just slam down on the acceleration?” I quiver. “Yep. You done, Amy?” Sparkles asks. Amy nods and purrs. “Step on it, Snowpaw!” I flop down onto the acceleration pedal, then slam into the seat as the limo lurches forwards. “Can you even drive?” I yelp to Sparkles above. She shrugs. “I’ve played GTA and did the driving thing at Legoland, so this shouldn’t be so hard.” The car is a rollercoaster, lurching from side to side, leaping off ramps and smashing through other cars. “Sparkles, you’re killing innocent people!” I wail. “This is insane!” “Dying in less than an hour is insane,” she spits back without looking down. “It’s not like these people are going to die in an hour or anything.” “But you’re killing innocent children and adults,” I choke out. “Does it look like I care?” Sparkles screams as the tyres crush another car roof. “I don’t care if the FBI come looking for us, I just want to live and find out who this psycho is! I don’t care how many happy kids we massacre, it’ll be a batter death than what will happen to them if The Hidden decide to nuke them.” “We’re halfway there!” announces Amy, all strapped up nicely in the back. Somehow she’s managed to find a mini-fridge and a gaming console, and just lies back enjoying a soda. And maybe some Call of Duty too. “Try get in here, Snowpaw, and we can play together!” I hook my claws into the leather, dragging myself across the floor. I tumble into the back, knocking over Amy’s bowl of snacks. She puts down her controller and helps me up and buckles me up. The car is still going at maximum speed, but it’s more like a high-speed dodgems game than a highway massacre. “Amy, you’ve got a hacked controller!” I realise crossly. “You don’t have a 99999 killstreak, you can’t die, and nobody can rapid-fire that quickly!” She giggles. “Then take mine. You’re on the top half of the screen now and your gamertag is Amyfist9.” Nice gamertag, ''I think. The hacked controller is awesome, and when the round ends I’m at second place on the leaderboard, Amy being the first. “But you gave me the hacked controller!” I exclaim. Amy shrugs. “I’m just good.” She peers out of the tinted window. “Two miles. Sparkles, honey, you’re doing a great job at the wheel! Fewer deaths too!” She purrs. “So should I slow down now? Ever since Snowpaw left I’ve been in an uncomfortable position keeping a paw on the pedal. It’s quarter to 12 anyways.” “Go ahead, but still go fast!” Amy yowls in delight. “We’re going to live!” One mile to go. Fifteen minutes left… “Disneyland!” I cheer as the pink castle comes into view. “Now how do we find SeaWorld?” “Follow the navigation?” suggests Amy. “We’re just around the corner, I think.” We turn a corner and the blue fence appears, with the massive car park and the rollercoasters slightly in view. “We’re here,” Sparkles sighs. She unlocks the doors and we tumble out. “I think I might need some water.” Amy nods and the two cats head off together. A cat crouches in the shadows, its paws on a red button. “It’s the cat!” I cry out. I run over to it. Its yellow eyes widen. “Find the black and silver waif, he has the first clue, but for now you’re safe,” it hisses before pressing the button and scrambling into a thorn bush. I blink. “What’s a waif?” I ask. “A waif is a homeless child, so we’re looking for a black and silver young cat who’s a stray…” Sparkles turns around, scanning the car park. “There!” she says, and runs over to a young black tom with silver tabby stripes. His bones sharply jut out from his pelt. “A cat who wishes to remain anonymous told me to look for cats who look like you and give you this,” he meows slowly. He pushes forward a piece of paper. “It’s the first clue!” I squeal excitedly. I look at the tom. “We’ll feed you and care for you and give you an awesome home if you help us,” I promise him. “What’s your name?” “Amsterdam,” he replies with an american accent, more confident than before. Something shines in his eyes, proud and determined. “The clue reads: Go to the forgotten land, a place which cats call no-man’s-land.” “We can’t just randomly recruit cats for FROST!” Sparkles hisses. “It’s crazy! We need Snarl’s permission first.” “YOLO,” I meow carelessly as I stroll through the empty entrance. “This whole place is closed for maintenance anyway. I read the sign outside the car park.” Amsterdam follows me, cosying up to me like I’m his mother. ''Oh stalker, it is so on.